Fast Times at Shibusen High
by Pandaraffe
Summary: AU. During school they may be complete opposites, but after school this group of teenagers gather in a basement and forget about the world.
1. After School Special

In the farthest, most secluded cranny of the Shibusen library sat straight-laced, straight A student Maka Albarn. Her flushed face, buried in a book as always, held unwavering and unconditional engrossment on the pages before her. Piles among piles of seldom used books cradled her in a safe haven meant only for the bookish soul.

In a jam-packed girl's restroom next to the equally swarming cafeteria loitered Elizabeth Thompson, the lively head cheerleader and all-American girl. A pack of girls swarmed around her, feeding off of her spirit as she unnecessarily primped up her already flawless makeup. With a flick of her hand, her golden hair swayed behind her perfectly tanned shoulder. If she were to listen closely, she'd notice the collective sigh that this produced.

In the bustling cafeteria dwelled the festive Black Star, standing on a table, one hand holding a turkey leg up to his mouth while he flexed the opposing arm. His loyal subjects sat around him, laughing at the joke he'd just cracked. With a satisfied grin, he flexed both bulging arms, causing the shirt on his back strain.

In a forgotten music classroom Soul Evans nodded to the soft music being played above him. He lay on the floor among a dozen others, relaxing amidst the warm bodies that enjoyed music as much as he did. With a deep sigh, he followed the dancing dust motes with his eyes and ran his hand through an unknown girl's hair. He smiled upon realizing that the motes swayed to the rhythm of the acoustic guitar.

In an empty hallway sat Patricia Thompson, a laptop balanced on her knees. Her eyes were glued to the glowing screen, watching a new episode of her favorite program with the intensity of a thousand suns. She giggled softly at the running gag being played before her, making sure not to disturb her other friend's shows. She almost wished the other girls sitting around her were watching it with her.

Outside, on a terrace, sat Tsubaki Nakatsukasa basking in the gentle sunlight. She could hear the shuffling of her fellow dancers around her, but remained with closed eyes, trying to memorize the steps to her solo. Swift twirls and graceful leaps played out in her head, showering her with the need to get up and move. Were it not because she'd forgotten her pointe shoes, she'd be swaying along with the others.

Down student-free streets ambled the infamous Death the Kid. He pulled a hoodie over his head, as he was weary of the sunlight. If anyone were to question why he was there and not at school, he'd be sure to give them a cold glare to keep them at bay. Not that anyone would dare look his way in the first place; the son of Death was used to being avoided.

* * *

"What the fuck do you even eat, _Eater_? Black Star's dick?"

"Hardly, _Kiddo dear_. I hear you're into that though."

"How about you two shut the fuck up and pass the pot, huh?"

"HA! ARE YOU TWO GONNA LET A LITTLE GIRL TELL YOU WHAT TO DO?! HAHAHAHA!"

"Jeeze, please be quiet. You're going to give us heart attacks."

"So many pretty colors…" a pause, a giddy giggle, then, "I'm already tripping balls. Goddamn, is that a giraffe?"

"How 'bout all of you shut your fuckin' traps and let me enjoy this hit?"

In a hazy room in the Death residence basement are seven teenagers, all sitting in a vague circle, all highly intoxicated by bittersweet fumes. Soul Evans lays on his back, engaged in a battle for a spot on Maka Albarn's lap. His opponent? Death the Kid's hand. He was losing by a long shot.

Maka sits on a couch cushion, staring at a poster of an incredibly intricate and highly amusing banana.

To her left sits Death the Kid. Despite the unbelievable high he is on, he refuses to let his guard down. One moment he could be seeing the music in the air and the next the asshole Soul could be on Maka's lap, trying to make his move.

On a beanbag sits Black Star, giggling at the talking dog on the television.

On the couch next to him sits Tsubaki, headphones in, thoughts on the music floating with and swaying her.

In the corner sits Patty, one arm protectively wrapped around a giraffe bong while the other is in a bag of chips.

In an empty bath tub sits Liz, joint in hand while her thoughts are far away, somewhere back in Brooklyn.

"Fuck off, Kid. Maka doesn't mind me being on her lap." Began Soul. Hard as he might, he was having a difficult time thinking of how to talk coherently.

"I'd rather not. Don't want your dirty STDs touching her."

"Hey, it's my body, Kid. Don't decide things for me." She stares at the banana a bit more, then adds, "But he's right Soul. I just wanna be on the safe side."

"Not like I haven't touched you before Maka. Might I remind you of New Years day?" Upon hearing this, Kid's heart gets pumping. He riles up and bunches his fist.

"The fuck you say, Eater?"

"Calm your balls Kid. He's talking about the time he tried to fuck me but ended up confusing me with the cat."

"I did not. Whatever. Not like I wanted to sit on you, tiny tits." With that, he stands and hunches off to the bath tub. Kid clenches his jaw and attempts to stand, to teach that piece of asymmetrical meat that _no one_ bad mouths a lady like Maka, but is stopped by a firm hand—better yet fist—to his stomach.

"Calm down. You act as if you didn't know how he gets. Chill. Enjoy this. Look at the banana." There is a fury like no other coursing through him. Never has he ever wanted to beat the shit out of Eater more, but he reminds himself that Maka wouldn't be very pleased if he did. So, he does as she told him to and stares at the banana and follows along to the music playing on someone's speakers.

"It's not like we're even dating," Maka whispers almost inaudibly. Kid hears, but chooses to ignore it.

It would be better for them both if he did.

**I honestly have no idea what I just wrote. I'm really tired I guess. Well, I didn't review this so there might be (a lot) of spelling and grammar errors. I'll come back later and fix them. Well, please review and stuff!**

**-Rina**


	2. Slow Down

**I would like to remind you guys that this is rated M. Just sayin'.**

She doesn't exactly know how they came to be in this situation. All she remembers is being alone with him in the basement. They didn't smoke a whole lot; they'd shared a blunt between the two, so why where they doing this?

"Fuck, calm down Kid," She hisses as he nearly rips her bra apart. "Calm _down_! Not here you shithead, they could walk in any minute." Despite her protests, both his and her bodies aren't slowing down. Their high isn't letting them. Kid shoves Maka onto the empty couch, towering over her as lustful eyes explore her mostly naked body. His hands smooth down either curves of her neck, trailing down smooth shoulders, past sturdy arms and thin wrists and long fingers, then up and up to her chest. His eyes smolder, molten pools of golden lava, hungry for a body that doesn't really belong to him. Her breathing becomes heavy and her body temperature rises as his long fingers trace her pointy collarbone and then lower to her breasts. He pushes her down when she tries to sit closer—to hide her chest—and lowers his lips to her neck.

"I really couldn't give a fuck if I tried." He kisses her jugular before nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Her fingers fly to his hair and pull at the ebony locks with a deep gasp. "Let them all see us. Let them know we fuck whenever we're alone. Now, please don't pull on my hair unless you want me to take you mercilessly." She grins at this, at the entire forbidden aspect of what they are doing, and wraps her legs around his hips. With little effort, her hips rise off of the couch and grind into his jean-clad crotch. As she runs her hands through his hair, occasionally yanking or smoothing the silky strands, he busies his with the task of unhinging her bra. Within seconds, his experienced digits succeed and he throws the offending piece of pale blue cloth onto the floor. He closes his eyes and lets a hiss escapes his lips that excites her beyond belief. He rests his elbows on the couch and stares at her flushed face as she continues the friction between them, making sure to speed up or slow down. She can feel his arousal quite a lot. With a wicked grin, she suddenly unhinges her legs from him and lies back on the couch.

"_Goddamn_ don't stop that."

"Then take off your damn clothes."

The look he gives her could kill, but he moves away from her nonetheless and removes his shirt. Her quick fingers roam down his built chest and undo the buttons of his jeans. Despite this not being her first time sleeping with him, her eyes fly to his and she slowly, shyly, pulls the jeans off his hips. He meets her unsure gaze with one of encouragement, and with that, she grazes her knuckles down his stomach and past the hem of his boxers, down to his arousal. He groans and kisses the top of her head.

"You make it really hard to pace myself, darling."

"Patience is for losers."

Their nerves are on fire. Every touch and kiss and sigh is heightened. It almost hurts them too feel so much.

Within seconds his boxers are off and the two eager bodies meet.

* * *

"I don't understand. Sometimes I feel like he likes me, but then he never actually wants to take our relationship further. Am I just being used?" Maka twists strands of golden hair around her index finger. She honestly doesn't know how to feel because she's never been in a situation like this before. Sure, she's had boyfriends before—just because she was a complete nerd didn't mean she couldn't date—but she's never felt such strong feelings for a guy, much less one of her closest friends. It hurts her to think that Kid may only be using her for the sex.

Tsubaki shifts around on the bed she and Maka lay on and faces her. "I am almost positive Kid isn't using you; he just isn't that kind of guy. Now, if we were talking about Soul…"

Maka rolls closer to the black-haired beauty and frowns. "Nah, Soul isn't really like that. He may act like a complete sexist, womanizing pig but deep down he's a nice guy." It is true. He's always been there for her when she's had any kind of issues. She begins to think that perhaps he is even more reliable than Kid.

"It must be really deep down because that boy has probably slept with more people than I'd rather count." She shudders to emphasize her point. "But really, I don't think Kid's using you. You're the only girl I've ever seen him talk to."

"Then you've obviously never seen him talk to those pretty punk girls. Seriously, I can't help but feel like he might like someone else."

"What? You think Kid likes those scene queens? Pfft. He hates them! Says that they're posers looking for a free high, or something like that."

"That sounds a lot like us whenever we're broke as fuck though."

"Whatever. You should know that Kid doesn't know how to deal with people his age."

"But _we're_ his age."

"Yeah, but we've all been together for such a long time. If you weren't always in the library during school, you'd see that he only socializes with those weird metal head stoner guys. You know, those guys? Inverted crosses, beanies, leather jackets?"

"The ones that look like they'd bite your finger off if you so much as look at them? That spend most of their time _not_ in school?"

"Yeah, those. Anyways, I just can't see Kid doing that kind of thing to you. I can tell he actually cares for you a lot. He's too much of a gentleman to do that. I just think he needs time to grow up and realize what he really wants."

Maka runs her fingers through her friend's hair and thinks. Perhaps Tsubaki is right. Maybe it has been too long since she's dated. Maybe she has spent too much time _reading_ about boys and relationships that she doesn't actually know what real boys act like. Although that statement won't seem to sit too well in her head, Maka sits up and flops onto her friend, a small but reassured smile on her face. _I'm just overthinking things_, she thinks as she stares at her friend's hair, _Like Tsubaki said, he may just need some time to think things over_.

"Thanks, Tsubaki. You always know what to tell me. I just hope you're right."

**Wow I haven't bothered to check if the spelling or grammar is okay so my apologies if something is spelled or sounds weird. I really don't know where this story is going btw. I don't even know if it will be KiMa or SoMa.. [shrugs] Well please tell me what you think!**

**-Rina**


	3. A Poor, Unfortunate Soul

"Mind if I sit here?"

No response.

"Hey, did you hear me?"

Utter silence.

"I'm just gonna sit." He pulls the wooden chair away from the table, slowly, making sure to scrape the hardwood flooring with the metallic legs as much as he can. He intently stares at her face, looking for any signs of her annoyance. Sure enough, her short temper and easily flushable cheeks betray her within seconds and she sharply turns to him, book forgotten.

"Fucking shit Soul you better be dying or so help me god I'm going to chop your balls off with a rusty spoon."

"Peachy as ever, I see." He sits on the offending seat and leans back, hands folded behind his head and feet crossed on the edge of the table. "Yeah, thanks Maka, my day has been lovely. I in fact did _not_ skip breakfast for once. Why yes, I would _love_ to sit and talk about my problems."

She glowers at him, puffing her cheeks out and agitatedly tapping her foot. "Shut the hell up and tell me what you want." She pushes a book away from her and glares at the table through her golden bangs. "But first get you nasty-ass feet off of the table. We're in public you pig." He grins at her anger but nevertheless submits to her command; he places the chair's legs on the ground, leans his upper body onto the table while stretching his legs below it, making his feet rest against the empty chair next to Maka.

"I just wanted to sit with my favorite person in the whole wide world." He gives her the smile that melts girls' hearts. She is utterly unfazed.

"Go sit in front of a mirror then. Stop bothering me. Your stupidity is alarmingly contagious." He fakes a wince and buries his face into his palms.

"Ouch. You work wonders with your words." Maroon eyes peek up at her through white fringe as he smiles innocently. He honestly loves the redness of her cheeks and the pout of her full, pink lips. "Seriously, though. I just wanted to sit with you. You always seem to be alone."

"I _like_ being alone."

"Oh, do you, really?"

"_Yes_, I just _said that_. If you don't tell me why you're really here I will kick you out."

"You don't own the place."

"_Soul_." she hisses in warning. He straightens up at the sign of danger and settles by slouching on the chair, resting his chin on his fist.

"Okay, so I'm failing physics-"

"Ah, the truth has emerged! So, what do you want me to do? Fuck the teacher so he can give you a better grade?"

"What? Oh, god, _no_." A mental image of the old, pruned teacher with soft little Maka pops, uninvited, into his horrified brain. His stomach spasms, threatening to expel the salad he'd just eaten. "Just picturing you with him gives me chills." He shivers to prove his point. "No I was just wondering if you could tutor me. For midterms." Her head slowly nods in understanding. Why she hadn't realized he only wanted to use her sooner is a mystery.

"You do realize that midterms are in a week?" She grumbles, rubbing her increasingly aching forehead. He nods submissively. She sighs in exasperation and tucks her bangs behind an ear. As much as her brain tells her to decline him, she figures that the situation can be dealt to her advantage. She gives him an angelic smile and begins, "Okay, but there is going be a price for this. A very high price, mind you." He nods again, giving her shiny eyes. _Is he trying to swoon me over?_ "Enlighten me, nimrod. What parts do you need tutoring on?" Immediately she regrets asking. She doesn't like his Cheshire grin or the way his eyes close into little, innocent crescents.

"See, that's the thing..." He chuckles sheepishly and rubs the back of his head, making sure to keep that suspiciously cute little grin. It's a matter of milliseconds before the blond catches on.

"Jesus-fuck. Soul, you can't expect me to cram five months of physics into your pea-sized brain in less than a week." She slams her book closed and prepares to take her leave.

"You can work miracles." He replies meekly. Her glare burns the core of his soul, but he isn't ready to back down just yet.

"Fuck everything. I can't do this. Go ask Jacqueline or Ox." With that, she stands, making her chair slide back.

His back straightens significantly as he sees his little ray of hope slowly begin to vanish. He c_an't _ask Ox or Jacqueline; he knows that they wouldn't be able to teach him, hard as they might try. He can't fail. He can't go back to living with his parents. He just _can't_. Her back faces him, steadily moving away, slow but sure paces leading them farther apart. His legs begin to tremble and his hands pull at his hair. Cold sweat gathers on his brow. _Shit. Shit. _Shit! _This can't happen._

"I'll supply you for a month!" He blurts out in desperation. Her strides slow down, and then stop upon his statement. She does an about-turn and he can once again see the angel's face. Those pink, pink lips form a speechless O, then press into a no-bullshit line.

"I swear, if you're lying about this-"

"I'm not," He interrupts, waving his hands in the air with Bambi eyes, "I swear to all the gods. May you strike me dead if I am lying."

She mulls his offer over a few times. Was she really willing to spend an entire week teaching him her least favorite subject? Did she even have the patience? While the cons are slowly piling up, there is the pro that leads her to take the challenge: he would supply her with whatever she wanted for the entire span of winter break. So, before she can back out of it, she grins at the Cheshire cat and mutters, "You have yourself a deal, Eater. Fair warning, though: I feel like getting shit-faced _all_ winter break."

With this, she turns once again and takes her leave. He shoots her back a nervous smile as he stands. A tiny part of his soul shatters upon realizing just how expensive his passing grade would be.

_I'm gonna be one broke motherfucker by New Years._

**This is sort of a filler chapter because, in all honesty, I have been to lazy to do any writing lately. School, man. Well yeah plz tell me what you think guise~**_  
_

**-Rina**


	4. Circle of Life

They always sat in a circle. No matter where they sat in the dark basement, a circle would be formed. It was something that came naturally; Liz always sat in the porcelain claw-foot bathtub. Soul would be next to her, either sitting near or on Maka. Maka never failed to sit on the striped couch cushion that had a cranberry juice stain near the zipper. Kid sat next to her, cross-legged and ready to beat the shit out of anyone, for any reason. Next to him would be Patty, her giraffe bong and some kind of food in her untiring grasp. Beside her would be Black Star, sitting on a bean bag, sitting as relaxed as his body ever could. On his other side would be Tsubaki sitting on a small red couch that constantly threatened to collapse.

"It's like the circle of life," Liz announces one day. A heavy dosage of Mary Jane brownies has been divided among the group, and the effects have kicked in. She loyally sprawls on the tub, head leaning against the edge as she nibbles on a brownie. "No matter what deep shit we get into, we always end up together, here, in this circle." She pauses for a moment to let her brain decipher all the thoughts that have begun to bombard her. After a few minutes of silence, she chuckles and continues, "We're kinda fucked, don't ya think? What if we stay like this forever?"

Maka lies on her back, head resting on the cushion as she stares at the banana, letting what Liz had just said sink in. "I sure as fuck don't want to stay like this. If you guys do, I apologize if I sound like a complete bitch, but I can't just sit here for the rest of my life. I have better things to do in the future than just sit my ass around in my friend's basement, smoking pot." She closes her eyes and relaxes her increasingly tense body. Upon thinking about what she'd just said, she adds, "But it sure as hell is nicer than having to face the shit we call society."

"I agree with what you say, Maka," Tsubaki contributes as she curls into a ball on the red couch, "But I think Liz is saying that we will always have this circle of friends to be here for one another and support one another if we are ever in a time of need. Think about it: we have all been friends since we were babies. We have stayed together through all these years. We've gone through rough spots, sure, but we're all still here."

"Yeah," Patty ponders as she lay on her stomach, "I mean, think about it: would we be doing this with our other friends? We do this together 'cus we're comfortable around each other. I know I wouldn't be doing this shit with my school friends…"

"Damn straight," Black Star agrees as he is in the process of rolling a blunt, "Like hell I'd let my loyal followers see me getting shit-faced. It would ruin my image." He eyes the obviously doubtful Soul and Kid and adds, "We are _all_ friends, whether we like to admit it or not," He shoots significant glances at the albino and son of Death. "Nothing can bring us apart, whether we like it or not. I suggest we come to terms with our fate."

_As if I'd befriend that dickwad. Might turn emo if I do, _Soul thinks as he presses the top of his head to the side of Maka's warm thigh.

_ I'd rather die than consider Eater an acquaintance. I might catch his gay, _Kid muses as he sits next to Maka, playing with her silky hair.

**Another filler chapter because I have no idea where this story is going. Sorrrrryyyy. ****Do you guys have suggestions as to where is should go?**

**-Rina**


	5. Never Look Back, Baby Girl

We all see it in each other's eyes.

It's not exactly shame, but it is pretty close to it.

Each time we try to associate with one another outside of school, there is this uncomfortable feeling of something that is just shy of embarrassment. We are all used to it. It still hurts, though, when we avoid each other to escape the feeling of not-quite embarrassment.

The only exception is when someone takes it too far; when someone gets hurt.

* * *

Their footsteps grow steadily closer.

They are smart; it is no coincidence that they happen to catch her in the industrial, and more abandoned, side of town. No witnesses. No problem. She blows the air out of her puffed cheeks and runs her hand along the damp brick wall next to her, searching for any protruding bricks. Upon further inspection, she determines that there is, in fact, no way to climb the wall.

By the sound of their voices, she can tell that they all attend her school. By the sound of their footfalls, she notices that they are three in total, all of average weight and height. One of them wears heavy boots, two of them wear sneakers. One of them wears a leather jacket. One of them wears a backpack. All three of them smoke. One of them has allergies. They are all taller than her, by the looks of their shadows.

She can take them.

"Hey, shorty! Wait up," one of them crows. Instantly she recognizes him to be Sam, a blond boy from her Chemistry class of average strength and average grades. If she recalls correctly, he once dated Patty. They didn't last long.

"Babe, slow down!" another shouts when she doesn't wait for them to catch up. She immediately recognizes him as well. He is Brandon from her speech class. Like Sam, he is of average strength, but his grades are lacking severely.

"Hey, girly, we're talking to you!" Shouts a different voice. A shiver runs up her spine. The last voice belongs to a blond known for his particular brute strength. He was once their Mary Jane dealer, but Soul later informed the group that the quality was shit. It really was. She focuses on her predicament. Sure, she is strong—stronger than many—but she knows her limits. Without a doubt, she can handle the first two, but to have to handle them a_s well as _Giriko, the famous street fighter? Realistically, she wouldn't come out of this unscathed. What do they want with her?

"Bitch, are you deaf?" shouts Giriko, anger seeping into his rough voice. She closes her eyes and focuses on her racing heartbeat. _I have two options,_ she thinks as she clenches her fist while making sure to make her strides longer and more frequent. _I can either make a run for it, or test my luck and find out if I can win._ Her logic tells her to run the hell away. Her pride tells her to stay and teach the shit-heads a lesson.

Before she can make a decision, though, she can feel them running, already growing dangerously close to where she is. She only has time to whirl around before Giriko reaches for her, aiming for her shoulder.

Her fight or flight instincts take over.

Immediately, she ducks down and kicks at his ankles. He moves them away from her trajectory angle slightly, but not enough, for her booted foot makes contact with his retreating calf, sending him tumbling to the ground. Without time to waste, she kicks him in the stomach and groin, then shoots her hand to his face and yanks at a stupid piercing he has on the bridge of his nose. It swiftly rips off of the skin and then flies in an arch away from his face, a trail of blood following closely behind.

Giriko shouts in pain, but she doesn't stick around to hear his cursing. Sam rushes to grab her from behind while Brandon's fist comes flying towards her face. She takes a deep breath and firmly plants her feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, before Sam's arms circle around her figure. With a long exhale, she grabs onto his arm with one hand and the back of his shirt with the other, and swiftly bends her upper body forward, sending him flying over her back. Brandon's fist meets Sam's forehead in the process before Sam knocks the other to the ground with him. Before they can recover, Maka jumps in the air and land one foot on either of their stomach's, knocking the wind out of them.

Unfortunately, while she was doing this, Giriko somewhat recovered and stepped up behind her. With her guard down, she doesn't notice him, and he kicks the back of her knee, sending her to the floor. Maka winces as she feels something crack on both of her knees. With a grin, he holds onto her hair, yanking her head up as he bends down to her ear and whispers, "You shouldn't have done that, sweetie."

Immediately he sends a punch to the back of her head. Her vision blurs, but her determination persists and she goes to send her elbow to meet his thigh. He, however, sees it coming and grabs onto it, pinning it flush to her back. She whimpers as she feels her muscles stretch too far. This time, he laughs at her. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he murmurs amusingly. "I only wanted to teach Kid a lesson. I only wanted to send a gentle message his way. I thought, _who better to deliver what I have to say than his little girlfriend_?"

"You shit," she hisses though her teeth, interrupting his stupid retorts. She is happy to hear that her voice doesn't waver despite the fact that she feels like crying like a little wimp. "Why don't you man the fuck up and tell him yourself? I'm not his goddamn mailman, and I sure as hell am not his bitch." He presses her elbow higher up her back, earning a yelp from the injured blond. He snickers and continues as if she hadn't spoken.

"So here I came all the way out here so I could just tell you to tell him to stay out of my business, and what do you do? You fuckin' rip my goddamn stud off! Now, I may not know much about etiquette, but I'm sure it's not nice to do that to a guy. It's just not _nice_." He pauses to bite at her ear. With deep disgust, she tries to head-butt him, but he only yanks on her hair more, stretching her neck upwards and preventing her from moving her head. He clucks his tongue in disapproval. "Maka, Maka, Maka. I didn't want things to come to this." With that, pushes her to the ground. This time, he is sure not to give her time to recover, for he immediately sends a kick to her stomach and then thigh. She bites her tongue to keep from screaming; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

It can't be helped, though. His kicks become crazed, and she can't distinguish her screams from his. Her head is kicked multiple times. She can't take it. She can't, she can't for the life of her. She can't think. Her body doesn't respond. She knows she can move, but her body just doesn't respond.

"I want to teach Kid a lesson!" Giriko shouts. "He needs to know he isn't a fuckin' god!"

She relaxes her body, ignores the pain, and lets her mind drift. It doesn't do her any good to feel the pain if she can't move her body.

Seconds later, another voice, this one much angrier, joins Giriko's.

"You motherfucker better leave her alone!"

She has never been happier to hear his voice.

* * *

**WOW look at all of those grammatical errors [sweats nervously] **

**Okay idk what made me write this. Okay maybe I do. I peered into a self-defense class and saw a chick flip a dude over her back and it looked cool. I thought, hey, why not make Maka flip some dude over her back? Well, anyway, I've been slacking a lot lately and have been too lazy to update, tbh. College does that to ya. Someone leave me some commentary or suggestions plzzz and thank.**

**-Rina**


	6. How to Save a Life

_There's too much noise._

"Maka! Maka, honey, can you hear me… fuck, Kid, she's knocked out!"

_There's too much movement._

"Shit shit shit. Kid, get your ass over here. She isn't responding!"

_I know these hands. They're musician's hands._

"Maka, goddamn, please say something?"

"Holy shit, Soul, will you stop yelling? You're giving me a headache…" She slowly opens her eyes, wary of the entire craze that surrounds her. Her head is throbbing, but the adrenaline has exterminated her ability to feel pain. She takes in her surroundings. Soul is above her, all teary-eyed and open-mouthed. She is lying on the concrete alleyway, which is thankfully shadowed by the surrounding buildings. Beneath her head is Soul's not so comfortable lap.

"You're bony as fuck," she adds to this revelation. He is still in an apparent state of shock, for he only gapes down at her as he pats her head as if to be sure she is safe.

She moves her body around experimentally. There are some bitching bruises and scrapes, but no broken bones; nothing she has to go to the hospital for. She takes in the sound of a police siren, far away but moving closer. And behind Soul's back, the sound of something—or someone—hitting flesh, kicking flesh, throwing flesh…

"What the fuck is going on?" she croaks as she attempts to crane her neck around Soul's hunched figure. He shakes his head furiously and hunkers lower, closer to her.

"It's nothing. Nothing at all." He is shivering, tears openly streaking down his face and pooling onto her sweater. "Please, just stay. I can't have you get hurt-"

"Fuck that," she interrupts, pushing him away. Something tugs at her heart upon seeing his dejected face, but she has to know what's going on. He doesn't move far from where he was, but it is enough for her to prop up and peer over his shoulder.

Right away, she notices the bodies of two of her attackers: Sam and Brandon. Their faces are badly misshapen, bloodied and bruised, while their bodies look as if they'd simply been thrown against a street curb and left for trash. She frantically searches for their breathing, and is relieved upon concluded that they are, in fact, alive as of the moment. Maka sits up further, ignoring the albino's meek protests, as her agitated gaze follows a thin trail of blood. Her heartbeat is erratic, for she dreads what waits at the end of the trail. Against her will, her fingers clutch at Soul's shirt sleeve.

"Why," she whispers as her eyes travel further down the crimson stream. Further. Further.

"I can't stop him," rasps Soul as he buries his face into the crook of her neck.

It is as if time stops. At the end of the ruby river is a face. Were it not for a patch of dark blond hair, she would not know it is Giriko. His face is only a mush of meat; it's hard to tell if what is left is even human. Her eyes travel down, to a damaged neck, down awkwardly bent arms and broken torso, to a lower body that is curled into itself in a final attempt to protect. She cringes again at the fragmented things that were once called legs, and with reluctance glances up, up, up, and to the face she'd been dreading to see.

His mouth is set in a slight smile, lips curling at the blood surrounding him. There is a bruise on his left cheek and a cut on the bridge of his nose. Maka holds her breath and pauses at the corners of his eyes. She clutches Soul's hands and takes a moment to compose her ragged breathing.

"He won't stop, Maka. Make it stop. Make him stop," Soul is shivering bellow her, limbs wracking as he sobs into her.

She doesn't blame him.

Her eyes finally meet his, and she finally begins to weep as well.

In his eyes is an anger so strong that it melts at the pure gold. They are a pool of madness, insanity, pulsing and spreading and devouring all the good that was once there. He _enjoys_ what he is doing. He is glad to see the carnage he is creating. They peer down on his prey and feed off of the pain and suffering. Maka hugs Soul tightly, for there is a relentless feeling of terror that is searing a hole into her chest. A feeling of nothingness is left in its destructive wake.

"Maka. Maka, Maka Maka Maka make him stop Maka. Maka!"

As Death's eyes meet hers, her body moves on its own. Despite the burning pain in her knees, she lifts herself. Her feet move, one in front of the other, in spite of the ache that radiates from her ankles. She moves as if in a dream. Behind her are the frantic shouts of Soul, but they no longer matter. Nothing matters. Maka moves forward, past the poor bodies of Sam and Brandon, past the trail of crimson sorrow that leads to Giriko, and stops before Death. Her head tilts, not once breaking eye contact, and she grabs onto his bloody fist. He looks at her with blood thirst in those glowing golden eyes, but she doesn't flinch.

"Kid, please. You're scaring us. You're scaring _me_."

There is a pause, a suffocating feeling of pent-up anger. There is not a single sound in the still air.

Then, Death the Kid falls to his knees and buries his face into an angel's stomach.

Maka's fingers run through his ebony locks as Death drenches her sweater.

* * *

_**Sorry it's so damn serious. I honestly want this to be over so they can go back to being sex-hungry stoners. Anyway, one day I won't be so pukingly tired and fix all the grammatical and spelling errors in this story. I'll be honest and tell y'all that that day isn't soon. :3**_

_**Well. Give me feedback, lovely readers!**_

_**Also, to my amazing and lone reviewer, I'll take your comment into consideration~ c:**_

_**-Rina**_


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